Fate's Night
by Ravvyn Z. Requiem
Summary: Azoc has returned shortly after the events deep within the bowels of yet another orc ridden mountain. Bloodshed, naturally, courses in his wake. A chance is given. Is it taken? What will be the price of success? Of failure? And how do emotions hold the key to the balance of defeat and victory? (Kili/Bilbo) M/M SLASH.


**A/N: So... I wrote this on a flight to Hong Kong. Sorry if it's terrible. Please comment, any feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you find some enjoyment in this!**

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Night fell, as it always did, shortly after they pitched camp on the rocky outcropping of a stony mountain. It was funny how it seemed the day revolved around them and their quest, instead of vice versa.

Bilbo sat near the fire, handing out bowls of thin soup to the surrounding Dwarves. Reaching out to Fili, his jacket opened slightly. Kili, who stood next to the lighter-haired Dwarf, gave a startled grunt and pointed to the Hobbit's waist, from which a sword hung. Bilbo looked down at the elvish blade, dismayed to find that it was a soft blue glow that had startled his friend.

"Orcs…" he breathed, fear gripping the edges of his mind, "They just can't leave us alone can they?" Bilbo continued as the others drew into a tight formation.

Kili grabbed the fretting Hobbit and dragged him to the back, teeth clenched, "Stay out of trouble," he warned under his breath, looking meaningfully at the Hobbit.

Bilbo gulped and nodded, drawing his sword – just in case, mind you – as the dark haired Dwarf nodded in satisfaction and drew his bow. It was bad timing at its finest. The whole group was still recovering from their Orc encounter within the bowels of that damned mountain.

"Let us hope," Gandalf muttered, "that the Pale Orc is not amongst the monsters this time."

They all knew, however, that that was unlikely to be the case. Still, as the first wave began to crash down upon them from the cliff that should have protected their backs, a silent prayer went up to whatever spirits and deities were listening, that the white wolf and his rider would not appear.

The wolves, then the Orcs themselves crashed over the small company like the sea, scattering them across the small outcropping. The Dwarves and Gandalf plunged into the fray, trying to push them back, leaving Bilbo nearly forgotten behind them. While their attention was focused on the front, no one noticed the white wolf and his pale rider slink up from behind.

The Hobbit never stood a chance. Despite his feeble attempts to defend himself upon noticing his adversary, Bilbo was pushed back by the malicious Orc hellbent on revenge and fueled by a deep-seated hatred. A cackle escaped scarred lips as the Baggins was pushed to the edge. It was a fearsome drop off the cliff, and it was with a surprised cry that was drowned out in the clash of metal and snarling of beasts that the Hobbit slipped. He was sure to fall to his death, but strong jaws snapped shut on his small body, dragging him back. A more piercing cry escaped his lips this time, and his blue sword clattered to the stone. The beast turned and bounded further down the outcropping, away from the rest of the fighting, sick satisfaction twisting his rider's face.

Kili turned at the sound of the second cry. "Thorin!" he yelled above the sounds of battle, an arrow already loose from his bow.

The Dwarf king turned in time to see the beast stumble, then fall, an arrow piercing its left hind knee. Azoc leapt from its back, and the sight of it sent shivers of rage and hatred down Thorin's spine. He froze, however, his sword raised as he prepared to charge, when he saw Bilbo picked up by the neck. Blood trickled from deep gouges in his side. His eyes rolled back in his head, and the colour drained from his face. The massive Orc raised a clawed appendage high in the air. It was a fearsome silhouette, and before he decided what to do, Kili was running forward, dark hair flying in the wind, forgetting his bow on his back as he drew his sword from its sheath. _No. He won't be hurt anymore. He isn't meant for this. I never should have left him on his own. He's not a warrior… I must…protect him… because… _mentally, he stiffened and a slow resolve crept over him as he accepted what he'd known to be true for quite some time now.

"Bilbo!" The cry came more as a roar as he neared the pair, causing the Orc to turn and drop the Halfling – right by the snapping jaws of his mount who was struggling to stand again.

Kili ground his teeth together in a silent snarl as his eyes shifted from his advancing foe to Bilbo who was about to be mauled to death and ripped to shreds. Never did the Dwarf falter, a single thought in the forefront of his mind: _I must protect him. Because I love him. _

Azoc charged as the beast pounced. The lone Dwarf made a mad dash forward, and cried out in pain as blood spattered the stars red.

Thorin and the rest of the Dwarves stood in amazement at the scene before them. All fighting ceased, on both sides.

"How…?" one of the Dwarves murmured, staring in awe at the scene that was frozen as a tableau.

The Pale Orc stood bewildered, while behind him, Kili had grabbed Bilbo, throwing himself into the jaws of the beast instead. Blood began to pool on the ground as the Hobbit blinked his eyes open. Slowly, everything seemed to regain life, then began anew all at once. The wolf released his grip, then attempted to spring forward yet again. The Orcs and Dwarves began fighting again as if nothing had ever stopped them in the first place. The Pale Orc broke from his stupor and advanced on the pair. Kili groaned and began to sink to the ground as he fought for consciousness and the Orc charged yet again, claw upraised. The Hobbit froze, paralyzed by terror. Slowly, the weight slipped from his back, and Kili collided with the ground with a thud.

It was like a bad case of déjà vu: the wolf prepared to finish the Dwarf, while the Hobbit was faced with the bloody promise the one armed monster held in his wild eyes.

Hobbit and Dwarf turned to each other, their eyes locking. In the span of a moment, a million things were understood but never said, felt but never expressed. In that moment, they knew what must happen.

A sharp snarling cry and a blood curdling roar both cut off and died in an instant. For the few seconds that they shredded the night, they successfully halted the fighting once again. With in an instant, the remaining Orcs fled, leading the Dwarves to observe the carnage. Before them, a sick picture was painted. The white wolf lay motionless, a sword thrust through his head. From the sword, a pale and bloody hand slid. And the Pale Orc stood defeated, in shock, an arrow sprouting from his throat. His body crumpled into a heap on the ground a few seconds later. All was silent, and nothing, no one moved.

Finally, Thorin took a step forward, and the spell was broken. Slowly, the others followed their leader, afraid of what they would find behind the corpses.

"Kili! Bilbo!" Thorin exclaimed upon seeing the two prone figures, lying on the crimson stone.

At the sound of the exclamation, everyone else came running, approaching in time to see Kili pull himself up into a sitting position against a boulder, holding Bilbo close to his chest. His bow was loaded and crossed protectively over Bilbo's body. His eyes, although exhausted, flashed protectively, and his grip tightened as the group crowded around them.

"Kili.. It's alright. We're not going to hurt you," Thorin placated as he observed the scene. Though successful, what price had they paid?

The Dwarf laying before them whimpered slightly, his eyes breaking, pain clouding them and causing tears to well in his eyes. "Please… help him… I don't… I don't… I can't… Please… I…" his voice cracked and he held the Hobbit even closer to his shuddering body as he buried his face in the curly blonde hair.

Gandalf stepped forward, a hand extended to brush Bilbo's forehead. The wizard breathed a sigh of relief as he felt life in the small body. "Let's get you back to the fire. We'll bandage you up, and let you rest."

As the grey wizard went to pick up the Hobbit, a low growl rumbled in the back of Kili's throat, despite the despair in his eyes.

"I will be careful, I assure you," murmured Gandalf, "Besides, you haven't the strength left to –"

He was cut short by the Dwarf struggling defiantly to his feet, Bilbo held bridal-style in his arms. Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other and marched back to the camp.

The rest of the company stared after him in amazement. "Well," stated Fili matter-of-factly, "better late than never. Not the best of circumstances, but still."

The others stared at him a moment in confusion before a low chuckle of understanding passed around the group. Thorin, meanwhile, had wandered back to where his kinsman had collapsed next to the Hobbit, one arm still around the fragile form. Together, Gandalf and the Dwarf king bandaged the many wounds on their friends as the rest tried to clean up some of the mess surrounding the camp.

When Kili awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he was alone. That realization alone made fear grip his heart. "Bilbo…" he murmured as memory flashed through his mind.

_Bilbo looked down at him, and he knew that the other knew exactly what he felt, what he wanted to say. Most importantly, he knew that it was the same as what the Hobbit was thinking. But time and luck were not on their side. As the Halfling grabbed his fallen sword, he nocked an arrow to his bowstring. The Orc kept charging, and the wolf pounced. The steel found the monsters skull by Bilbo's hand, and his own arrow flew true, straight through the Orc's throat._

_But he didn't register that, not really. All he could see in that moment was the Hobbit. Bilbo being carried off. Bilbo grabbing his sword. Bilbo killing the wolf. Bilbo growing colder in his arms._

_And now, what if the price for their victory had been paid in life and blood? What if he hadn't been fast enough? What if he hadn't been able to save him? What if as the Orc fell, his claw had hit home? What if he'd failed? What if – _

"Glad to see you're awake," Gandalf smiled gently as he spoke, breaking the Dwarf's torrent of thought.

Kili looked around. They seemed to be in a cavern of some sort, a fire crackled nearby, but it was otherwise void of people. "Where's Bilbo? Is he alright?" he inquired impatiently.

"Ah, yes. Right over there," the wizard pointed to a prone form covered in a blanket, "He has yet to awake however. You yourself have been asleep two days. We moved, just in case the Orcs decided to come back and finish us off."

With that, Gandalf left, leaving Kili alone with an unconscious Hobbit. Wincing as he stood on wobbling legs, the Dwarf went to sit by Bilbo. Gently, he took the smaller man's hands in his own, pressing his lips to cool fingers, now clean of the beastly blood that had stained them. Silently, he begged for Bilbo to open his eyes. As time wore on, others came and went, and his hope began to fade, the tears welling up in his eyes. Sensing his misery, the others mostly kept to the fire outside, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

For Dwarves, the difference between genders is so slight, that Kili wasn't surprised to find himself fascinated, infatuated with the Hobbit. After the trolls however, he began to notice a stronger attachment forming. Soon he was falling, and it drove him insane, though he accepted it as destined to be unrequited. But to have those feelings returned, then ripped from him so soon… It wasn't fair. He'd already lost his home; he refused to lose his love as well.

The moon was high in the sky when Bilbo returned to consciousness. Feeling a warm hand in his own, he looked over to his right. A soft smile crossed his lips when he saw Kili, propped up against the rough stone, his eyes distant and unseeing. Not wanting to startle him, the Halfling gently squeezed the Dwarfs hand, watching for his reaction. _What if… Well no. What I saw was true, it has to be. _

Kili froze, feeling the pressure on his hand. Looking down, a huge grin spread over his face, lighting up his eyes for the first time in days. "You're awake! Thank the gods! I thought…" his look darkened as he gazed at Bilbo.

The Hobbit mustered a tired smile, trying to comfort the over stressed Dwarf, "Well, it hasn't come to that yet, thankfully, so let us not dwell on it. Are you alright?"

"I will be. My back still twinges a bit if I move wrong but… What are you doing? You shouldn't be – " the Dwarf reached out to catch Bilbo as he nearly passed out from the pain of trying to sit up.

Shaking his head, he drew the Hobbit close to his chest, being as gentle as possible. Bilbo took a deep breath before turning his gaze to the one who held him. As Kili looked down into his eyes, so full of love and trust and caring, he surrendered to the desire he'd felt since first seeing the handsome Hobbit at the door of Bag End. Gently, he leant down and pressed his lips to the other man's in a soft, chaste kiss.

"I was… so scared… I could have lost you, Bilbo. Then where would I've been? I never… I never would have had a home had I lost you," he murmured against the Hobbit's lips, the tears threatening to fall yet again.

Bilbo pulled away slightly, "Well, where would I be if I let you get mauled to death by that wolf thing?"

Kili shuddered at the thought, and just pulled his love closer to his body and tightened his embrace, kissing the top of the Hobbit's head.

Bilbo smiled, feeling at home and safe for the first time since leaving the Shire to embark on this wild, tumultuous adventure.

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**I hope you liked it, please tell me what you thought :D ja ne!**


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